


Lay this Body Down

by silverfoxflower



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: First Time, M/M, Pining, Sex Toys, Size Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-29
Updated: 2020-06-29
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:15:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24972148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silverfoxflower/pseuds/silverfoxflower
Summary: Written for the prompt:"Geralt/Jaskier, sizequeen!JaskierJaskier catches glimpse of Geralt's huge cock and decides he won't be satisfied by nothing less. The witcher is off-limits, of course, so he starts looking for endowned men, but he quickly finds out that men are terrible at judging the size of their dick, and that even those that are accurate in their estimation are just too small for him. Jaskier starts buying toys, each bigger than the last one, trying to get close to Geralt's length and width - until Geralt walks in on him with a toy halfway up his ass and decides to give him the real thing."
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 12
Kudos: 779





	Lay this Body Down

It was smart, Geralt learned long ago, to keep an eye on Jaskier's sexual exploits. Jaskier was an indiscriminate letch, but had a particular weakness for brunettes with noble titles and large breasts. It had become unfortunately common for Geralt to stumble upon Jaskier in the middle of some screaming match/duel/attempted murder brought upon by his own philandering. 

Which is why when Geralt noticed the large, rough-looking man at the tavern moving across the room towards Jaskier with an intent expression, his first assumption was _trouble_. 

Grimacing, Geralt drained the rest of his ale before standing to intervene. The crowd at the tavern was thick tonight, and pushing through them looked about as easy as sawing through frozen bread with a dinner knife. Geralt briefly missed the days when Witchers were hated and feared. At least it was easier to move through a fucking crowd. 

When he got closer, Geralt could see that the suspicious man was standing by Jaskier. He looked to be little more than a farm hand, his body bulky with muscle and his face likely weathered beyond his years. "Let's take this outside," he said so quietly that it strained Geralt’s sensitive hearing, and put a hand on Jaskier’s ass. 

"Geralt?" Jaskier turned, his eyes widening, then, "No!" as Geralt slid himself in front of Jaskier, twisting the farm-hand's hand back roughly.

"Hey!" the man shouted, then paled as he noticed Geralt's size, grim expression, and multiple swords - not necessarily in that order. The chattering around them hushed as on-lookers began to notice the disturbance. 

"I don't know if my friend owes you money, or flirted with your wife or impregnated your sister." Geralt said softly. "But we don’t need any trouble here. You have my word that we’ll be clear of this town by sundown." 

"I didn't- ... sorry." The man muttered, before turning tail and melting into the crowd. With the situation resolved, other patrons soon lost interest and the previous noise level resumed. 

"Thanks." Jaskier said flatly, and Geralt turned to see him looking unexpectedly peevish. 

"Did you know that man?" 

"Not as much as I was hoping to," Jaskier muttered, signing for another pint. 

\--

Once he noticed it once, Geralt couldn't _stop_ noticing it. 

There was the barrel-chested nobleman in Toussaint who tipped Jaskier extravagantly, rewarded with a wink and a private smile. The whip-thin mercenary in Velen who Jaskier disappeared with for twenty minutes behind some tents. A copper-bearded whore in Vizima who was famed for his … specific talents. 

Geralt found himself unable to _stop_ seeking out Jaskier when they were in the same room, unable to ignore his furtive gropings and whispered laughter. The way he cut his eyes at certain men, and they reciprocated with knowing looks. Unlike with women, there wasn't a particular type of male that Jaskier favored, and he never sustained long affairs with them, nor did he write sappy love ballads to chase their favor. 

Most importantly, he got into less trouble. Geralt should have been happy about that, he supposed.

"You were gone a long time," Geralt said once, after Jaskier had returned from disappearing hand-in-hand with a male companion. "Lost your way to the shitter?" 

"Didn't know you were keeping track." Jaskier said mildly, sitting down to his dinner. "I could've written you a chronicle." He swallowed a mouthful of stew and sputtered. "Lord, must _everything_ in this backwater village be disappointing?" 

Geralt wanted to ask whether that meant his assignation had gone badly, but drank deeply of his tankard instead. 

\--

Geralt was not ... unfamiliar with taking comfort with men, though most of his experience was from Kaer Morhen. He'd chalked up his encounters to the lack of women and the confusion of young male hormones. 

He had no explanation for his mind being so suddenly pro-occupied with Jaskier's bite-pink lips and his long, callused fingers. Days with Jaskier, trading barbs and bumping shoulders like nothing had changed, were pure torture. The nights were only worse. 

Though it cost him sleep, it had never crossed Geralt's mind to preposition Jaskier. For one, Jaskier had made it plain enough that he had tastes for everybody _except_ Geralt, and was hardly hurting for choice. For the second, well, the thought of pity and disgust on the face of his only friend ... Geralt resigned himself to his cowardice. 

Instead, Geralt increased his visits to brothels in the local area. At least this solution cost only his coin purse. 

\--

"Oh, you're a big one aren’t you?" the whore, who had called herself Tassi, struggled to hide the alarm in her tone. 

Geralt crossed his arms over his chest and sighed. It wasn't unusual for his partners to react like this - even those he paid to to take that position. He had made a habit of requesting "experienced" girls, but many underestimated the reality of Witcher proportions. 

"It would be the pride of any man, to be sure," Tassi laughed nervously, her slender hand unable to clasp the entirety of Geralt's girth. "And the ruin of many a woman. Say, you wouldn't happen to be partial a tug-job … it’s certainly the economical choice-" 

"You can leave." Geralt said, and Tassi gratefully slid out of the room, closing the door behind her. 

Geralt took a long drink from the wine skin and wiped his mouth with his wrist. His erection, which only had been half-hard when Tassi handled it, flagged. Geralt gloomily tucked himself into his trousers before lowering himself onto the bed. 

The Crimson Cat advertised on the back of its clean girls and low prices, but that didn't necessarily translate into thick walls. Even without his Witcher senses, Geralt would have been privy to the grunts, squeals and screams of half of Cidaris plowing their ... fields. 

As usual, unwanted thoughts of Jaskier started flooding his head. On his knees, eyes dewy with tears, mouth full of cock. Being bent over a bed, bending someone over a bed, fucking his own fist as he gasped-

"Geralt!" 

Geralt sat up in bed abruptly. The shout had been half-muffled, soft enough that he could have imagined it. 

" _Oh_ ... Geralt ..." 

That was Jaskier's voice. And definitely not imagined. Geralt found that his heart was racing, the blood rushing in his ears. He opened the door to the long hallway outside, focusing on the sound of Jaskier's voice, which was making wet, whimpering noises. 

He was three doors down from Geralt's room. Geralt’s long strides swallowed the distance, but he hesitated on the threshold, his hands curled into fists. This was a private moment, and he had no right-

" _Fuck me Geralt!_ " 

Geralt pushed in the door to find Jaskier with his face buried in his arm, ass in the air, thighs spayed open with his hard pink cock bobbing between.

There was a monstrosity of a glass bauble shoved into Jaskier's hole. 

"Ger-...alt?" Jaskier scrambled to a sitting position, the glass rod slipping out and rolling across the bed, saved from falling off the bed by Geralt's quick reflexes. 

It was slippery with oil, warm from Jaskier's body and, superseding Geralt's earlier estimation, shaped like a cock of frightening size. 

Jaskier scrambled past Geralt. For a second Geralt thought that his intrusion had been so horrific that Jaskier would simply flee, but instead Jaskier slammed the door shut and pressed his back against it, breathing heavily. 

"Look, I can explain." Jaskier was slick with sweat, flushed pink from his hairline to the 'v' of his unlaced tunic, his dusky nipples peaking against the thin fabric. 

" _Later_." Geralt said, covering the distance between them in quick strides and lowering his mouth on Jaskier's hungrily. 

After a beat of surprise, Jaskier reciprocated, clumsy with eagerness. They staggered to the bed while Jaskier tried to physically climb Geralt and take off his pants at the same time.Geralt struggled to not to drop the oily glass baton. 

"It's tempered," Jaskier said, biting at Geralt's collarbone on his way down his body, "Just throw it anywhere- not on my jacket!" Jaskier’s fingers went straight for the laces of Geralt’s pants, roughly tearing at them and hauling the fabric to Geralt’s knees. Geralt’s cock bobbed free right in front of Jaskier’s wide eyes. "Oh _wow_." 

Geralt said quickly. "We can take it slow-" 

"Perish the thought." Jaskier said, pushing Geralt onto the bed and climbing on top of him. He straddled Geralt's hips and stripped off his tunic. Geralt took the opportunity to run a hand down Jaskier's side to the crease of his hip, a tender gesture that made Jaskier moan softly. "Don't make me wait," Jaskier pressed kisses along Geralt's jawline, reaching behind himself to position Geralt at his slick entrance. "I won't survive it." 

In answer, Geralt hauled Jaskier down on his cock, sheathing himself half-way and punching a loud groan from Jaskier. Jaskier leaned back, his entire body trembling as he slowly skewered himself the rest of the way, panting like a dog in heat. 

"That training kit was worth every copper" Jaskier slurred, drunk with victory that he had sheathed the entirety of Geralt. He was warm, slick and tortuously tight, clenching with each movement as he ground against the top of Geralt’s thighs. Geralt felt himself breathing harshly, gripping Jaskier’s thighs hard enough to leave bruises.

Under the flickering lamplight, Jaskier was not beautiful like a woman. He was too large. He was covered with springy, copper hair and lean muscle instead of soft curves. He took his pleasure without any coquettishness, fucking his leaking cock into his fist as he moaned Geralt's name. 

He was the most arousing thing Geralt had ever seen. 

When Jaskier came, Geralt pushed him down into the pillows and pounded his spend into Jaskier's slick heat, delirious with pleasure and not altogether convinced that this was not all just a dream. 

\--

"A building full of whores, and you pleasure yourself with _this_." Geralt held the glass toy towards the lamplight. Cleaned and polished, it could be mistaken for a tasteless, though fine work of art. 

"A building full of whores and you find your way to me." Jaskier responded smugly from where he was resting on his stomach, legs spayed wide. "Please retell the part where you had vivid sexual dreams about me as you pined from afar." 

Geralt rolled his eyes, replacing the toy on the nightstand. "How long did it take you to get to ... this size?" Uncanny, how similar it was in shape to his cock. 

"A few dedicated months." Jaskier trailed a finger down Geralt's shoulder. "When we parted ways so I could accompany Baroness Jastra to her seaside retreat." At Geralt's look he laughed, "T'was strictly business, like I told you. She wanted music for her ladies, and I ... had the evenings to myself." 

Geralt thought of Jaskier fucking himself open with the glass baubles, his quiet gasps at each new stretch, new burn, pleasuring himself while imagining one day being able to take Geralt's cock in full. 

"Size _and_ stamina." Jaskier said, raising his eyebrows as Geralt hardened. "I think you'll ruin me." He slid his arms around Geralt's shoulders as Geralt bent down for a kiss, his voice hoarse when they pulled apart. "I think you've already ruined me." 

"I'll take responsibility." Geralt said, pulling the covers over them both.

**Author's Note:**

> My [tumblr](https://greyduckgreygoose.tumblr.com/tagged/myfic).


End file.
